Peter Pan Syndrome
by GingerbreadTARDIS99
Summary: In order to save Fury's sanity, Coulson agrees to keep an eye on the Avengers for an entire week. After all, there are no international threats to be concerned about. What could possibly go wrong? I'll give you a hint: EVERYTHING.
1. Hiring the Babysitter

**Why did I write this? Because when you're stuck in a van for days on end, and one of the very few forms of entertainment you have is your brother's 3DS that has a "LEGO Avengers" game, and you read countless Avengers fanfics because there is nothing else to do in the hotel rooms, you write stuff like this. (Don't take it the wrong way; I had a great vacation. :))**

 **Two things I should mention before you get yourself involved into this story. First, there is a few AUish themes here. Mainly the Avengers didn't split up after the first movie, and Coulson didn't die. Second, I will try my best to keep everyone in character, but there will be some OOC moments for humorous scenes. If you're not a fan of either of those things, I suggest you don't read this fic, and look for something that suits you better.**

 **With that out of the way, I hope you get some laughs out of... whatever this little abomination is.**

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 _{S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier} {[Location retracted]} {Sunday, 21:45}_

"Interdimensional invasions?"

"No, sir."

"H.Y.D.R.A.?"

"Nope."

"Political scandals?"

"Not even the devil himself would be brave enough to deal with that."

A long pause dwelled between an anxious director and a deadpan looking agent. The agent wore a bored, irritated gaze, and was only moments away from returning to the computer screen he was typing his reports on. The moment would have been dead silent, if they weren't on the main deck, where spurts of speech and electronic noises could be heard every now and then.

"…A kitten stuck on a tree branch?" The agent gave an annoyed sigh, nearly slamming his face onto the keyboard.

"No, sir. There hasn't been any sign of global distress for the past twenty-four hours. And according to our charts, there shouldn't be any for the upcoming week." Nick Fury slammed his hands on the railing he had been leaning over above the agent.

"Aw come on! There has to be _something_! The last thing I need is the Avengers dealing with seven days of boredom!"

"Sorry, Director Fury." The agent's voice sounded anything but sorry, and Fury groaned miserably while hiding his face in his gloved hands. It was going to be a long week, and he was unprepared for what he would have to be dealing with. Maybe a cup of coffee mixed with liquor would be enough for tomorrow.

Like a loud sneeze in a quiet room, Agent Coulson kicked open the doors. Since they were automatic sliding doors, it remains a mystery as to how he managed to pull it off. His suit was slightly disheveled, and his face was filled with panic, but he looked polished overall.

"HAS ANYONE SEEN MY POKÉMON TRADING CARDS?!"

"Nobody cares about your stupid Pokémon cards, Coulson." Commander Hill, who was sitting on the captain's seat, looked up from her copy of _War of the Worlds_. Coulson, in response, crossed his arms.

"You're just saying that because you can't understand the concept of Pokémon."

"That, and those games support racism, Nazism, and animal cruelty." Coulson was seething from where he stood.

"HOW DARE YOU TALK TRASH ABOUT POKÉMON!"

"ENOUGH YOU TWO!" Fury interrupted, causing Coulson and Hill to freeze where they stood, eyes wide of fear as to what the director would do if they didn't. "I'm already dealing with six five-year-olds, and I don't need two more!"

"Understood, Director Fury," said Hill in a professional manner, and continued reading her book. Coulson, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"What five-year-olds?"

"Oh, the ones that live in Avenger's Tower." Fury, after giving a weary sigh, walked off the platform to the conference table that had the coffee he needed.

"You mean the Avengers?"

"Yeah, those five-year-olds. You want a cup, Coulson?"

"No thanks. Caffeine and I don't mix very well." With a grunt, Fury slumped into one of the conference chairs, cup of coffee at hand. It was a smidge too cold, much to his displeasure. "So… what's the big deal about them?"

"They get restless," Fury simply stated. "If they're not stopping havoc, they create it themselves. An Avenger just isn't programmed to act… 'normal'."

"What about Stark? He's a billionaire-playboy-philanthropist, not to mention the man who made Stark Industries one of the most valuable companies on the planet."

" _Pre_ -Iron Man." Fury reminded Coulson. "Now with Miss Potts as the new CEO, she's responsible for 72% of Stark's wealth."

"True, but he also attends press conferences and business meetings."

"And who is always with him whenever he is at those conferences and meetings?" Coulson had to think for a moment before he could give his response.

"…Miss Potts?"

"Yeeeup." Fury took a sip of coffee, and immediately regretted it.

"Well, there has to be a reason why he's the co-leader of the Avengers."

"Were you not on the Helicarrier when he was helping Dr. Banner locate the Tesseract?!"

"I did say he was a co-leader." Fury pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You know Coulson, I didn't want to ruin your image of him, but Rogers can be a trouble-maker himself." Coulson's face fell.

"WHAT?! BUT- HE- eh…" As Coulson's tongue failed to form sentences, Fury took another sip from the coffee mug. For some strange reason, the taste wasn't as bad as last time. His taste buds must have been paralyzed from the last sip. "H-HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?!"

"Well, he is a man out of his time. There's going to be a lot of things he's not going to agree with. Politics, religion, the Great Pumpkin…"

"HE FOUGHT IN WORLD WAR TWO FOR PETE'S SAKE!"

"He once posted a rant on Tumblr about how people should save the food on their plates for leftovers instead of throwing it away!" Coulson face then morphed from complete disappointment, to great confusion.

"Rogers is on Tumblr?"

"Our sources say Stark helped him get a blog on there."

"Why am I not following him? I-Never mind that! What about Dr. Banner?" Fury's stare gave all the reasons Coulson needed. "What about Agent Romanoff?"

"May I remind you that Agent Barton is an Avenger as well?" Memories of the mischief those two caused on S.H.I.E.L.D. property came back to Coulson.

"Oh yeah…" Coulson was running out of Avengers to defend. "There's always Thor!"

"Thor. The Norse god of thunder who hails from a dimension of demigods. The super hero who hasn't even been on Earth for a full year. That Thor." The silence that followed was the seal on Fury's argument. But Coulson wasn't going to give up.

"Well… I-I don't believe it! They can't be that troublesome!" Fury raised an eyebrow in interest.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. A-And I can prove that you're just exaggerating!"

"What is it you're trying to tell me, Coulson?"

"What did you have planned this week, Fury?" The director knew where this was going, and he wasn't going to waste this opportunity.

"I was going to keep an eye on the Avengers to make sure they don't kill themselves, or at least the UPS delivery man."

"Not anymore! I, the Great Phil Coulson, will watch the Avengers for the entire week!" Mocking laughter could be heard somewhere in the room, but no one could pinpoint who it came from.

"Tell you what, Coulson. If you manage to keep Stark, Rogers, Banner, Romanoff, Barton, and Thor under control, I'll take you to that ice cream shop outside of New York City." Coulson's eyes lit up like a little boy on Christmas morning.

"You mean that one that sells cones that hold a gallon?!"

"Yep."

"AAAND has chocolate-celery stick flavored ice cream?!" Hill stuck out her tongue in disgust as she kept her eyes glued to her book.

"Yes, Coulson. That ice cream shop. _However_ , if you don't make it, you'll have to do one difficult task."

"And what is that?"

"Clean your MOTHERSCREWING DESK! I just saw it this afternoon, and for heaven's sake, Coulson! It's no wonder you keep misplacing your trading cards!"

"Deal!"

"Oh, and Coulson?"

"Yes Fury?"

"Your Pokémon cards are in the break room."

"Thanks." And with that, Coulson walked out of the room, proud in himself. Fury, meanwhile, watched the cocky agent, sipping his ice cold coffee and grinning almost evilly.

There was no way he was going to survive.


	2. First Impressions

**Here's my response to nightmarehunter676: I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter! Whenever I try to write something funny, I always have this fear that no one won't get my humor. So, your review was a huge relief. :)**

 **Thanks to Toni42, Vivienne5679, and nightmarehunter676 for favoriting. Also, thanks to Toa Aerrow, Toni42, and nightmarehunter676 for following. Trust me, Coulson is going to need all the help he can get.**

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 _{S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier} {[Location retracted]} {Monday, 6:00}_

"Alright! First day! It's going to be great! Aaand I'm talking to myself again."

Coulson walked down the Helicarrier halls to the communications room. Since he had no other way to contact the Avengers, this last resort would have to do. Coulson straightened his tie, dusted the imaginary dust off his suit sleeves, and pushed his sunglasses up his nose, even though they were already as high as they would go.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Hill somehow snuck up behind him, and gave Coulson a small heart attack.

"Ok, first of all, don't do that. Second of all, they're grown adults, Hill. The youngest of them all is thirty-one, and the oldest is well over a thousand. I'm sure Fury just needed a break." Hill gave a look of uncertainty, and then shrugged half-heartily.

"If you say so," she said, continuing down the hall to wherever she was going. In a whisper, Coulson repeated Hill's words with a mocking tone. He disliked Hill whenever she doubted his capabilities.

He didn't have time for his anger to fully set in before he finally arrived at the communications room. It was dark, and the light from the hanging screens made his eyes hurt. However, none of that stopped him from dialing the number Fury gave him to call the Avengers. He spoke each number to himself every time he pressed a button, and then waited for the heroes to answer. To his surprise, none of them did.

"Hello?"

"J.A.R.V.I.S?!"

"Agent Coulson! Is there an emergency?"

"No, no. I just wanted to talk to the Avengers."

"Oh." There was an awkward moment of silence before J.A.R.V.I.S. spoke again. "Mr. Stark and the others won't be awake for another hour or so."

"Another hour?!"

"They're still resting from the last mission."

"That was three days ago!"

"I know." The exasperated tone in the AI's voice told Coulson that they were just giving excuses for being lazy.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., can you please wake them up?"

"Of course."

"Oh! And, can you be, um, aggressive?"

"I'll try my best, Agent Coulson."

After around five minutes of waiting, the Avengers presented themselves one by one, each looking more ticked than the last. The first was Dr. Banner. His hair seemed to be all parted to one side of his head as much as possible. His eyes were green, but very groggy, almost as if he got no sleep last night. He wore a t-shirt that had the different emotions of a storm trooper, and what Coulson assumed was smiley face boxers.

Second was Thor. He looked more rested than Banner, but he didn't look happy to be awake. His long flowing hair was, for whatever reason, braided into a tight bun held together by hair pins. He didn't wear any kind of top, but he did wear grey sweatpants that looked a size too small. To Coulson's surprise, Thor's feet wore orange and purple striped socks. He would have chuckled and remarked something on the lines of demigods wearing stripy socks, but decided against it when he noticed Thor's hammer, Mjølnir, in the warrior's hand.

The next to enter were Romanoff and Barton. Romanoff's hair was… interesting to say at least. The best way to describe it was a giant rat's nest, complete with hair brush, toothpaste, a pigeon, and maybe Jimmy Hoffa. Her outfit consisted of a liquid-stained Resident Evil t-shirt, and pants Coulson were sure weren't sleepwear. Barton, however, had nothing on but a black muscle shirt and whitey-tighties.

After them came Rogers, which disappointed Coulson. He expected a bit more discipline out of a soldier and childhood idol. But that wasn't the only thing that made Coulson want to shove Rogers into a closet, out of sight and out of mind. The man was wearing matching blue and white striped pajamas, just like a little kid. Coulson felt embarrassed for the super soldier. In fact, it took all of the willpower that he had in him to not hide his face in his hands.

Last was Stark. Out of all of the others, he looked the most ticked, but he was equally traumatized. He also reminded Coulson of a small child, for his hair stood up like static. His t-shirt appeared to be his normal wear, but his pants had the Transformers logo freckled all over it.

"What. Did you do. To J.A.R.V.I.S." Stark attempted to talk through grinding teeth, as a way to express calmness. But even Banner could see through his horrible façade and know he was actually raging where he stood. Coulson raised his hands up to his shoulders in defense.

"I just told him to be aggressive!" Coulson wished he had worded that better, because the ticking bomb, codenamed "Iron Man", blew up faster than a helium balloon.

"Oh! So YOUR version of 'aggressive' is to say this:…" Stark's voice changed to a horrible attempt at a British accent. "…GET OFF YOUR LAZY BUM, YOU SON OF A MOTHERLESS GOAT!"

"That's not what I meant at all!"

"Then what DID you mean, you donkey's hindquarters?!"

"I don't know! Toss someone out of bed? Pull the sheets right off them?"

"I lack arms," J.A.R.V.I.S stated out of nowhere. This was preceded by a second or two of silence.

"J.A.R.V.I.S. lacks arms," Stark repeated, pointing up to the ceiling.

"Yeah, J.A.R.V.I.S. lacks arms," Barton lazily said for no reason. Coulson knew if he didn't steer things back into focus, this call wasn't going to get anywhere.

"We can talk about J.A.R.V.I.S.'s arms later! Right now, I have a few things to tell you all to prepare you for this week." Anger was set aside, and the Avenger's attention was solely on Coulson. "First off! Director Fury has given me the responsibility of the Avenger's protocol for the week." Nobody batted an eye. "Second off! You guys have no set missions for the week." Faces went pale.

"Wait. No missions? For seven straight days?!" Rogers held on to Stark like an over-sized teddy bear.

"According to our statistics. Keep in mind, something unexpected might come up later on that may require your assistance."

"But, what are we supposed to do?" Romanoff was petting Barton's head, while the assassin in question sucked his thumb savagely.

"Well, what do you normally do?"

"Fly around, kick bad guy butt, and crack wise?" Banner's state of falling asleep at any moment made him sound like he wasn't even in the same room as everyone else.

"I mean when you're not on a mission."

"Fly around, kick bad guy butt, and crack wise?"

"Anything else?"

"Fly around, kick bad guy –"

"Dr. Banner, how much sleep did you get last night?" Before the doctor could give an answer, Thor interrupted with a booming voice.

"What is this sleep that you speak of? I know not of this sleep!" Coulson, in denial at what he was seeing and hearing, took off his sunglasses to rub his eye ducts.

"Isn't there _something_ to do at Avenger's Tower?"

"Like what?" Barton decided to show his thumb mercy for a moment.

"Well, don't you have movies or TV shows to watch?" All six heroes slowly shook their heads no. "Xbox or PlayStation?... Monopoly?... Twister?... A deck or cards?... Not even a baby doll?!" Every question was met with the same answer. Thor almost nodded his head with the last question, but remembered something and changed his mind. Coulson gave a weary sigh that could rival Fury's. "Tell you what. I'll come over and bring some entertainment with me. How does that sound?" What came after that was a storm of thank you and pleads for the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent to come that very moment.

000

 _{S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier} {[Location retracted]} {Monday, 6:20}_

"What are you doing, Phil?"

Coulson turned around to the entrance of the Quinjet. Standing at the end of the walkway was Commander Hill, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. He wasn't too surprised by her reaction, since he was practically carrying everything that he possibly could from his cluttered desk. This included a box filled to the brim with playing and trading cards (minus his Captain America trading cards (heaven _forbid_ he bring his Captain America trading cards.).), Battleship, the Back to the Future trilogy, and his five different 3DSes that included Super Smash Bros. and Pokémon. Oh, and a Woody doll.

"Trust me, Maria. I'm bringing sanity to Avenger's Tower." She tilted her head to the side to stare at the random items, then looked back up to Coulson.

"Are you sure about that?" Coulson's eyes narrowed.

"Very funny." The agent placed the items on one of the seats, and went to seat behind the pilot's controls.

"Do you even know how to fly that thing?" Hill entered the Quinjet, still staring at the stash oddly.

"Of course I do!"

"Really?"

"Really!" Coulson gripped the steering wheel tightly, with all of his focus on the runway. Hill leaded against the co-pilot seat.

"How do you turn in on?" Realization struck Coulson like a stab in the back. Every so slowly, he removed himself from the pilot seat, and Hill took his place.


End file.
